


red for you, white for surrender

by itachitachi



Series: Summer Pornathon '11 [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Cleaning, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Multi, Summer Pornathon 2011, Team Gluttony, Threesome - M/M/M, Wax Play, Writing on the Body, gotta love the things a person can do with only fingers, overtones?, this is total id fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 18:15:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2238651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itachitachi/pseuds/itachitachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"And who did you expect would be cleaning this up?" Merlin asks, hiding the trembling of his knees under the sternness of his voice.</i>
</p>
<p>Because all that candlewax has got to come off somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	red for you, white for surrender

**Author's Note:**

> For Pthon 2011 week two: Kink Grab Bag! The choice of kinks was [exhibitionism, multiple partners, non/dub-con, washing/cleaning, food porn]. I used a few.

"And who did you expect would be cleaning this up?" Merlin asks, hiding the trembling of his knees under the sternness of his voice.

Gwaine lifts his head and grins at him lazily from the bed. "Arthur said you wouldn't mind."

He slides his hand along Arthur's back, speckled and spattered with cooled wax from neck to buttocks. Merlin watches the weak shudder of Arthur's spine under the sensation and nearly has to prop himself against the table. He _doesn't_ mind, oh god he doesn't, but damn Arthur's presumption about it.

"I didn't think you'd mind either," Gwaine adds. "It was a mutual decision, you could say."

Something about the way he says it makes Merlin pause, then step closer. Gwaine's eyes glitter, and he lifts his hand from Arthur's back to give Merlin a good view.

There are two colors of wax dribbled over Arthur's skin: a layer of white underneath, from any common candle around the castle, but also red, from the deeply colored, expensive ones lit only for special occasions. The spatters from it are darker than blood, trailed across Arthur's back like a wound, a messy script.

Merlin blinks, and peers closer, bringing a finger to the first zigzag of slick red color. It almost looks like a letter.

"It's your name," Gwaine murmurs. "I wrote it on him in wax. He couldn't keep still when I told him what I was doing; that's why it's so messy."

Arthur's face turns into the pillow, fists clenching in the sheets.

"Oh," Merlin says, and he knows his face is red, tight with heat. Carefully, he slips a fingernail under one of the drips of white wax on Arthur's back and peels it away. It comes off cleanly, but pulls at Arthur's skin a bit; Arthur makes an agonized noise and rolls his hips against the bed. "Oh," Merlin says again, shaky, and sits.

There's a warm pink spot on Arthur's skin under where the wax had been. Merlin rubs it and Arthur groans, dark, from deep in his chest.

"There's a knife for you to scrape him off with," Gwaine offers. "It's on the table."

"No," Merlin finds himself saying, "I want to do it with my fingers."

It would have been easier to accept the knife, Merlin discovers, but he doesn't mind. The wax dribbled across Arthur's back is soft from his body heat, still pliable. Some of the blots come off easily, but he likes using his fingernails to peel up the rest; Arthur cries out and writhes when he scratches, and Gwaine watches intently, never blinking.

When Merlin scrapes up a long splash of layered red and white, Arthur speaks for the first time. It's just Merlin's name, but it sounds torn from his throat—as if Merlin has ripped it from him only by caressing Arthur's hot-sensitive skin with the gentle pads of his fingers.

"Merlin," Arthur says, hands twisting in his own hair. "Oh, _oh_ , fuck, Merlin, oh—"

Merlin can't help it; he clambers up, straddling Arthur's thighs, and leans forward, smoothing his hands all the way from Arthur's neck down to his arse. Arthur shudders under him like a wave when he brushes the parts clean of wax, pink and soft. Merlin peels away a long trail just below Arthur's armpit and blows at the skin there. Arthur jerks, cursing louder and louder, as if Merlin is bringing him alive.

Merlin's prick has gone hard, rubbing at a patch of dark red wax in the cleft of Arthur's arse. He sits up and peels that bit away before it stains his trousers, and Arthur's hips stutter. He groans, "Do it. Fucking do it, Merlin."

"But I—" he says, touching the swirls of wax still marking the upper half of Arthur's back. "I'm not finished."

"Do as the man says," Gwaine whispers, reaching over to tug at Merlin's laces one-handed.

"No, no," Merlin protests, batting him away, but Gwaine is too efficient; Merlin's prick pops out and he hisses, can't help rubbing himself against Arthur's arse.

Arthur arches into it and reaches back with one hand, gripping hard at Merlin's wrist. "Don't stop," he whispers.

Merlin doesn't stop. He shifts up and ruts blindly against the small of Arthur's back, palm smearing the wax on Arthur's shoulder as he braces himself. Gwaine strokes his hip and Arthur trembles, sensitive under the hard of Merlin's cock, and it's the shaky little moan he lets out that makes Merlin come in the end, hot and wet, in new white patterns all over Arthur's tender skin.


End file.
